umbrella unicorn underling understood utilizing Utopia
unless uncle Ulrich urged Uranus to undercut unicorn’s union
Union’s underground ugly units united umbrella unicorns
Unitarianism under siege, undercoated Uncle Ulrich,
undetermined units urged umbrella unicorn to unionize.
A slow death marinated.
In half-prayer and long goodbyes.
So much suffering on this cobblestone of lies.
To think it all began with a silky lullaby.
The Faries and unicorns soon drift from our lives.
Replaced by tarry intentions.
Oozing from cinderblock faces.
Bridges of hope undercut by trolls.
Silky dreams slip into eclipse.
The sun's last breath kisses the necrosed lips of our nothingness.
Oh, why don't cats like bananas,
Life would be so much simpler if we could get our cat to eat bananas.
She would not eat them on toast,
She would not touch them hidden in a roast.
We even stuffed some in a rat,
But she was having none of that.
Oh why don't cats eat bananas,
When there are so many bananas,
At ridiculously low prices that undercut,
The cheapest meat cut.
Any ideas would be appreciated,
As on bananas we are fixated,
We have them on toast,
Though we don't like to boast,
We eat them raw,
And in the raw,
Now we are having trouble fitting through the door,
And avoiding banana skins on the the floor.
You can hear the resentment in my voice
I don't wanna be mad, but I don't have a choice
I don't have thin skin – I been rubbed raw
Blessed are the meek and the sons-in-law
All that I say, you undermine
You undercut me every time
Now nuthin' that I say to my kids has any worth
Someday the sons-in-law shall inherit the earth
I try, oh I try to be an attentive husband
Try to provide for my family, best I can
Work all day, that must count for somethin'
To take my place in the back of the line of men
I say this and you say that
Well, say hello to Mr. Doormat
You can wipe your feet on me when you enter my door
Blessed are the meek and the sons-in-law
Look at us all, so desperate and sad
Having to call some dictator "Dad"
It's enough to make your sense of injustice whirl
Oh, give us your tired sons-in-law of the world
~ Sing to the melody of 'My Way' ~
For what is a man, what has he got?
If not Ukraine, what has he wrought?
If he's not himself, then he has naught
To shrink from war, with cowardice fraught
To say the things he truly feels
To lie and lie, 'til lies are real
And not the words of one who kneels
To undercut freshly inked deals
The record shows
As bombs explode
~ I did it my way...
--From Vladimir P., desperately looking for love
Cow Palace, on the Tucson-Nogales Highway,
famous for Hollywood stars like John Wayne.
At first, the sunset tipped its halo light, in my way,
as I tried to get a digital photograph in vain.
My Aunt drove closer, but a trucker pulled up,
then another, right into the parking lot. Seriously?
We pulled in front of him into this crazy setup.
I snapped. Inside business’ closed - flooded imperiously.
Read it has a mud floor and the calendar’s frozen
on September. The piano slowly falls apart. What
a way for a cowboy to say, “Happy Trails.” Chosen
to die with its boots on, The Cow’s tough-undercut.
Easier to photograph was Longhorn, huge rack displayed,
directly across from the slain Cow, who watches roofside.
Amado experienced a monsoon in 2018 - the Cow paid.
So much drama in the Arizona desert - nowhere to hide.
2/9/2022
Think about this…
Emails now prove thousands of doctor’s reported medicines
That were proven successful for Covid to Fauci at the CDC
He ignored all of this as hundreds of thousands of people died
So truthfully, he undercut President Trump as media praised him
Then, President Trump was blamed for all the deaths!
Heidi Sands
6/7/21
Undercut and overwhelmed with once in a lifetime feelings
each death totally new, unlike any other, not even halfway
a blade of hurt cut deep into my chest like a channel
blue blood instantly changes red, irritating me.
I try to kill my feelings, before they kill me.
Pleading to be exchanged. What about me for her?
Grim Reaper does not turn around or acknowledge,
Busy marching his stunned victims to Neverland
I fall on my sword, but find it was worthless plastic
Hurting no one not even me
She’s in a much better place, someone says
Another throws out something equally stupid.
Her place is here, next to me, with her mother.
She was not ready I wail and keen. I want to bite them
To rip them apart and masticate them with my teeth.
I want the world to suffer, because I am.
I’m trying to be positive
But deep inside my gut
A chorus filled with “not again!”
Is there to undercut.
I check the undecideds
As the numbers fluctuate
And know there’s nothing we can do
Except to sit and wait.
The country’s riven clean in half,
The red states and the blue.
We aren’t the United States,
For unity’s taboo.
We’re holding our collective breath
And clinging to our hope
That when the votes are tallied up,
The losing half can cope.
Cats and rat and coconut.
Dancing off each stomach gut.
I would join them undercut.
They might flitter, fuss and frut.
Inner door not firmly shut?
Glad I am not in their rut.
Cats live dancing in the strut.
Rat ran off and showed his butt.
Coconut hides in the grass hut.
Likeable butt-in-sky mallard mutt.
Runs to me with a tut, tut, tut.
Cats and rat and coconut.
Delight me with their loud putt-putt.
II.
A politician just said to her crowd
what need have we for a border?
It’s a good thing to help poor folks in need,
we should let them all come over.
Even thought cartels control who gets through,
and subject the women to rape,
then off the choice ones as concubines,
dooming them to an awful fate.
And even when most of those foreigners
flagrantly violate our rules,
take people’s jobs, undercut all our laws,
yet lefties still think it’s all cool?!
Now they want us to pay for their health care,
when we cannot afford the same?
It’s fair to say they’re not on our side,
the left has gone friggin’ insane.
Scabs in Australian history
The Labor Party came from the early Shearers strike, 1900s,
where Unions fought for and got fair wages for the workers.
Later in the 1950s the Shearers had trouble with SCABS.
The Australian National Country Party brought in the Scabs to undercut the
wages of the hard working Shearers of Sheep .
Kiwis shearers were brought in at lower wages and fights developed,
between the Scabs and the Aussie workers...
The Farmers wanted cheap labour...
So worker swinging voter, you are being replaced in the Mines jobs,
By guess what? Cheap imported maybe 4 dollar an hour workers
on special Visas...Not funny to be kept out of work!
Howard the duck was ejected from his seat because of
bringing in 100,000 cheap contract workers,
ARE THEY STILL TAKING AUSSIE JOBS TODAY..?
DO YOU GET THE PICTURE?
You vote for Abbots nasty people and you will be out of work,
or would you like to work cheap ..Bo Peep SHEEP???
Don Johnson
Contract hey
Santas on the thunderbox,
Contract given to George Knox,
He bid 20cents a tin ,
To bring the crappy nightsoil in.
Crumbob poo had made his bid,
He only had 14 kids,
25 cents a tin was it,
undercut by another half wit,
Great farting in your underjocks,
when Tarring the tins for the thunderbox
Moral of this story crude,
Contracts won by the lower dude,
How to force the wages down,
Come in sucker it’s your frown
The system has you screwed…
Don Johnson
Contract
In a little town away out west ,
the Contract was out,
the thunderboxes best,
Tommy Bumble offered 20 cents a tin,
To take the human manure in,
With the contract he was blest,
Tommy Tartar was in haste,
He offered twenty five cents,
got replaced,
By the cheapest contract in,
His fart cart got a win,
He got the council contract.
This is just how business works,
When Abbot gets you contracted, an smirks,
Your lowest wage HE does win,
Others cheaper offerings,
Might undercut your perks,
Cheap labour for the cunning rich,
Contract forced on the worker,
Howard’s damned work-choices pitch,
Voters rejected him, the smirker.
Their aim is just to buy you cheap,
More dollars for the greedy creep,
Will you join up with the other sheep
And get mulesed into the bargain,
Weep…
Don Johnson
Cheat
I could cheat but it is wrong,
To rob your brother of his song,
To undercut his wages, worse,
To bring on self the awful curse,
But you knew it all along.
Power of thought can win a game,
But cheating is just a thieving same,
Build for self the future pain,
Be born in old Uganda.
Without a bloody veranda,
Black in the face again?
Propaganda brainwash cheat,
Lies are spilling into the street,
Mass media are indiscreet,
To the super rich they pander,
Will Africa be sweet,
No bloody veranda.
So their persecuting you today,
Sucking muddy water, no fun hey,
Machete, sidestep duck away,
Hide under the veranda.
Don Johnson
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